


Mine

by reigningqueenofwords



Series: Fat and Beautiful [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2020-02-28 04:31:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18749080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reigningqueenofwords/pseuds/reigningqueenofwords





	Mine

You and Dean could barely keep your hands off each other lately, and you were not complaining. Morning sex, a quickie here and there, the middle of the night. It didn’t matter how tired, or how sore, the two of you were. It was like he was trying to make up for the time that you’d felt unattractive and untouched.

Sam pounded on your bedroom door one morning, just as Dean was making you giggle. “Can you two stop having sex long enough for a case?” He teased.

“Gimme 10, Sammy!” Dean called back before his lips were against your skin once more.

“Dean!” You squealed with laughter.

* * *

Walking into the library, you were pulling your wet hair up into a ponytail. “So, what’s up, Sammy?” You asked, stealing a piece of his toast from his plate.

He chuckled and shook his head as you sat. “Where’s Dean?” He asked, going back to looking at his laptop.

“He’ll be here in a minute.” You shrugged. Taking a bite of the toast, you licked your lips and waited for Sam to start filling you in.

The two of you sat in silence for a moment before Dean came in, a smirk on his face. He ran his hand through his still wet hair. “Now, what can I do for my baby brother?” He teased.

Rolling his eyes, Sam sat back in his chair. “Looks like Y/N is gonna have to play dress up.” He grinned, motioning to you.

“What?” You asked, staring at him. “Dress up?”

“It looks like wealthy women are the targets.” He started. “Mainly at social events. Our best bet is for Y/N to get all dolled up and play socialite.” Sam was way too amused by this. “We’ll have to do some shopping, but nothing a credit card can’t handle. I’ll go with you, as Dean wouldn’t let you out of the damn dressing room.”

You glanced at Dean, and then Sam. “So, let me get this straight- you want me to put on some fancy ass dress, do my hair and make up, and kiss ass with some stuck up bastards?” Sam nodded. “Alright. Let’s do it.”

* * *

You stood at the bottom of the stairs of the event you were supposed to waltz into and get the attention of some sick monster. Not exactly something you were looking forward to.

Sam had helped you pick out a long black dress, strapless, and the top was formfitting. He’d conned you into going to a salon to get your hair, nails, and makeup done. You felt like a Barbie doll.

Licking your lips, you gently lifted the front part of your dress, revealing a lovely pair of red high heels. You held your head high, as if you were made of money as you gracefully walked up the stairs.

Both boys had managed to get in as staff. Dean was a waiter who would move through the crowd, a tray of champagne in hand. Sam was basically there to keep older women company on the dance floor. You had teased him when you found that out, calling him a dance pimp. Both were dressed up in tuxes, hair just so, shaved clean, and looking very sharp.

The closer you got to the front doors, the more nervous you became. All the voices blended together, forcing you to calm your breathing.

* * *

Dean moved easily through the crowd, smiling at the right times, until he spotted you. You were laughing at something an older man was telling you. He looked to be in his mid-40s, but he took good care of himself. Dean’s jaw tightened momentarily, not liking how he looked at you. He knew that look very well.

“So, you put all this together?” He heard you ask when he was closer to you minutes later.

The man grinned, nodding his thanks to Dean as he took a glass. Handing it to you, he started talking again. “I did.” He sounded so cocky and egotistical. It got on Dean’s nerves. “I built my business from the ground up, I can’t forget where I came from.” As Dean walked away, he rolled his eyes. “How about I give you a tour? It’s my estate, we can go anywhere we please.”

That was bad enough, but when your voice hit his ears, it made it much worse. “I’d love that.” Your voice was flirty, and while he knew it was for the part, it still got to him. It still made the jealousy bubble up inside him.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the pair of you walk off towards a side hall, and followed moments later. His tray was set down on the first flat surface he saw, his eyes never leaving the direction you went.

* * *

While you moved throughout the crowd, and Dean served drinks, Sam was stuck with the older women. He’d lost count of how many times he’d felt his ass get slapped, pinched, or both. He was starting to wish that Dean had been stuck with this job.

He did a double take when he saw his brother stalk off, no tray in hand. Furrowing his brows, he followed him down a hall. Sighing, he hoped that this would give him just a few minutes of peace, and to have a few minutes of his body not being groped or eyed.

* * *

Thankfully, the case was finished at that event. However, that did little to ease Dean’s jealousy. The drive back was tense. His grip on the steering wheel was so tight that his knuckles were white. His jaw was clenched, his eyes staring straight forward.

Sam glanced at him from the passenger’s seat, then to you. You shrugged slightly, not knowing what to do, or say. The only thing that could be heard was the purr of the engine, Dean hadn’t even put on the radio, or a tape.

Looking out the window, you were thankful that you were almost back to the motel. You wanted out of the confines of your dress, and out of the tension of the Impala.

* * *

Hearing the door slam behind you, you flinched slightly. Not because you were afraid, but because you hadn’t been expecting it. Turning, you saw Dean pulling his tie from the collar of his shirt, his eyes on you.

Arousal went through your entire being, causing you to rub your thighs together slightly. As he moved closer to you, his coat joined his tie on the floor. His fingers moved down the front of his shirt, unbuttoning each one. Your Y/C/E locked on his green ones, darkened with lust. As he pulled his shirt from his body, your breathing became heavier, enjoying the sight of his bare chest.

Once he was in reach, your nails ran down his chest, earning a low growl from him. You bit your lip as he pulled his belt from the loops, strangely turned on by this side of him. As he toed off his dress shoes, his hands ran over your waist, to the back of your dress. Running your hands up his arms, you could hear the zipper slowly being pulled down.

Nothing needed to be said at the moment. His eyes told you everything you had to know. You were his, completely. Your dress slipped to the floor before his lips crashed against yours, one hand working on freeing himself from his slacks, the other tangled in your hair.

You whimpered into the kiss, feeling your ache for him grow. “You’re mine.” He growled against your lips as he pushed you onto the bed.

As you watched him stroke his member, his pants and boxer briefs at his thighs, your chest was heaving. His hands gripped your underwear, pulling them down your legs, tossing them off to the side. You opened your legs, giving him room to settle between them. He lined up before thrusting into you, making you cry out. “Fuck, Dean.” You moaned, your eyes closing.

His lips brushed down your jaw before sucking lightly on your earlobe. “I love you.” He panted as his pace didn’t let up.

“I-I love you!” Your nails dug into his shoulders as you neared what you knew would be just your first orgasm of that night.

He buried his face in your neck, nipping at it between sucking a dark mark at the base. “You’re fucking mine.” He groaned, causing you to clench around him.

You whimpered and panted through it, clinging to him. “Yours. All yours.” You assured him. You felt his lips turn up into a smile. “And you’re mine.” You told him, voice low, gripping the back of his hair.

Dean moved so that he could look at you. A smirk on his face, his eyes locked on yours. “Yours.” He moaned, snapping his hips forward. Holding himself deep, he filled you, his lips coming down to meet yours hungrily.

As you both came down, you were breathing heavily, your kiss turning lazy and sweet. Smiling into it, you ran your hands up and down his back, neither of you in a rush to move.


End file.
